The Resort Surprise

The resort was never exactly slow, but as Lisa sat down for a late lunch in the cantina she marked that it wasn't nearly as lively as it was last night.

She scanned the menu that the waiter had left, musing to herself over his tanned skin and athletic build, wondering what Bob would think if she told him she wanted to kiss the waiter!

The lunch choices all looked delightful but she settled on half a sandwich with a house salad. She didn't know exactly how long Bob would be at the conference today and she didn't want to be too full of he wanted to go to dinner.

She normally ate earlier but she had slept in, the sounds of the waves crashing against the shore like a lullaby to her. When she had finally woke, there was a note on the nightstand from Bob. Seems her lovely husband had scheduled her for a pedicure and a massage in the spa.

She had a small breakfast waiting for her that she took out onto the lanai as she ate and watched the warm turquoise waters roll into shore in gentle waves. The sun felt luxurious on her skin as she sat in a lounge chair sipping cool orange juice and nibbling on the food her beautiful man had arraigned for her.

Having had a late start and then an exquisite spa experience, she had wandered into the cantina much later than she would have normally had her midday meal.

The waiter returned and she didn't quite stare as he dropped off her glass of red but it would be a lie to say she hadn't noticed the way his arms and shoulders filled out the silly resort uniform so nicely.

She felt a little flush of heat deep inside and knew that her body was reacting to her naughty thoughts. She could feel herself getting slippery and wet.

What she didn't notice was the man sitting at the bar or how his gaze returned to her again and again as she went through the familiar ritual of ordering her meal. She had a kindle that she had pulled out of her bag and was enjoying the rare opportunity to get some reading done. She had downloaded the 50 Shades trilogy before they flew out and although the writing in the first book was atrocious, she had to admit it WAS steamy. Perhaps she could understand why all the women had gone crazy for it after all.

Her food came and she ate absently as she read, pausing every now and then to look out the open windows at the view of the ocean. A gentle breeze added to the lazily spinning ceiling fans that kept the air from being stuffy and hot.

Still she doesn't notice the man regarding her from the bar. He is drinking what looks like a piƱa colada if she were to noticed him. But she didn't. She turned back to her book, unaware of the hunger in his eyes. Unaware of those eyes caressing her, undressing her from across the room while Mr. Grey once again fucks his little college girl. (Amazing that they came fuck and fuck and fuck some more, then sleep all night and fuck in the morning. Doesn't anyone in this book ever have to piss?)

The man at the bar sees her shift in her seat, recognizes the slow press of her thighs together as she tries to relieve some of the ache she feels almost constantly now. He turns to the bartender and has him pour another glass of red and refreshes his own drink.

Taking both in hand, he approaches the woman, still unnoticed.

The glass of wine is placed in front of her and she glances up, confused and expecting to see the waiter. Her confusion increases as she finally notices this man that had been watching her for the past 40 minutes. He was tall but not quite as tall as Bob. He was wide at the shoulders and had a kind and handsome face.

"I didn't order this," she stutters, unsure what to say. He was obviously not dressed as a server but her mind couldn't comprehend who he might be. He must be a manager or something.

"I know you didn't. A beautiful lady should never buy her own drinks." His smile was easy and natural on his face and when he flashed that smile, he became even more handsome. "May I join you?" He is sitting before she even has a chance to answer.

She feels dazzled. A little bit off like she was trapped in a dream. One where everything was ALMOST right but still, unexplainable things keep happening. Oversleeping, surprise spa treatments, lunch at an odd hour, and now this man. Whoever he is. And why does it feel like she can't think? Can't speak?

"I hope you like the wine. The bartender said it's the same as you ordered before. If you would like something else.....?"

"Oh no. No thank you. The wine is lovely." She took the glass in hand, giving her something to do, something to focus on. She was surprised at how steady her hand was. Her insides felt like they were fluttering away, her heartbeat an escalating locomotive in her chest pounding down the track and gaining momentum.

She buys herself some time by sipping at the wine. She sets the glass down and closes the cover of her kindle, feeling more in control. This is what I do, she thinks. This is who I am. In control. I think, then I feel, and then I act. I am not some delicate flower. Some lost girl in the woods. I'm a woman. Powerful and capable. Professional.

"Thank you for the wine. I am nearly done with lunch though, I have to be going. My husband should be back soon." As she spoke, she turned her hand slightly, making sure her wedding ring was prominently displayed for this man.

He just continued to smile and she thought, this man is dangerous. That smile is dangerous. He was somewhere between 40 and 50 and had an easy confidence that radiates out of that smile. She could feel her need inside her and wondered at it. Why now? What have Bob and I unlocked that I can't have a good looking man around me where my body doesn't want to be taken. That I don't get all wet and achy and imagine spreading me legs and being filled up with his manhood? What am I becoming?

"I don't see your husband here. You look all alone." He feigns glancing around the little cantina. "Is your husband the type of man that would be offended for his wife to have a glass of wine bought for her. Who wouldn't allow an admirer to pass some casual conversation with a pretty lady such as yourself?" He tsked. Actually tsked! "Please tell me your husband isn't that controlling of such a beautiful woman."

It was an interesting question. What type of man WAS she married to? Certainly not one that would mind a handsome man hitting on her. Hadn't he just watched as another man fucked her through dozens of orgasms just three weeks ago? And hasn't he been perpetually hard, wanting to fuck her again and again while reminiscing about what it was like to see her moaning and arching through orgasm after orgasm, her pussy clenching around another man's hard shaft?

What kind of man was she married to? A kinky and beautiful man. A man that loves her so much he wants her to have the sort of sexual experiences other women don't dare to imagine. The sort that if they shared their desires with their husbands might just destroy their entire marriage.

She was married to a PERFECT husband.

She returns her attention to the smiling devil sitting with her. His handsome face stokes the fires that seem to live inside her, perpetually smoldering since they had started their little journey into sweet carnal bliss with other people.

"My husband is very understanding. He loves me dearly and isn't insecure of other men." She wanted to say more. Wanted to tell him that her husband is kinky. Very kinky. That her husband harbors fantasies of his own. Ones that start very much like this very situation and ends with her being fucked senseless by a handsome stranger. Left wet and exhausted and completely worn out.

Left exquisitely sore.

But the words freeze in her throat. She is nearly scandalized by her own train of thoughts. Yes they were far from home, but still. Could she just casually tell this complete stranger that just looking at him was making her pussy wet and that she has her husband's consent to fuck who she chooses? What would he think? How would he react?

He would probably be disgusted and run away. He would probably think she was a dirty slut and would look at her like she was less than human. (Why did the thought of being seen as a slut make that soft hollow place between her legs pulse with aching need? What is happening to me?)

His regard is casual but there is an intensity she can see lurking just behind that facade of calm, almost amused interest. Despite her normal analytical approach to life, she can FEEL the sexual tension in the air. Since she has started her sexual awakening in the lifestyle she has been much more aware of those feelings. That energy. Sometimes she wondered if she was actually glowing, radiating out to the world a giant invitation.

Come meet me, I'm OPEN now. I'm ready to experience. I am free. Free to flirt. Free to consider. Free to make connections. It's like a neon sign has been hung over her head and she can't help but see people react to her in a wholly different way that any other time in her life.

"Have you seen the fern grotto? It is a short walk to the north side of the resort. It's truly beautiful. You could bring your wine."

Her first instinct was to decline. It's what a married woman does. But Bob wouldn't be back for awhile. And what harm would it be to let this man escort her to see the ferns? Certainly there was nothing untoward about that, was there? It's public. It's not as if she was going back to his room with him.

"I would love to", she tells him as she picks up her wineglass, "but it's just a quick trip and back. I'm a married woman." She felt good having stated her boundaries so clearly, not even aware that she was lying. Most of all to herself.

The warm air seemed to caress her skin, hot and humid against her flesh. She can feel a thin, slick sweat breaking out all over her body. It reminded her vividly of the feeling of wet and passionate sex. Steamy and slippery.

She was intimately aware of the man walking close to her left side. As they approached a fork in the cobbled walkway, she started to turn right, towards the water. His hand was suddenly on her waist, fingertips gently resting on that little knob of bone at her pelvis. Intimately close to the smoldering fire at her core. His hand guides her towards the left hand path and they are soon engulfed in tropical plants and trees creating a naturally arched trellis over the walkway.

The sounds of the resort dropped to a muted and far away background noise. Within minutes it felt as if they had left everything behind. They might as well have been the only two people around for miles.

Another turn to the left and they entered a small cave. The air was damp and cool. Along the ceiling and the walls lush green ferns grew in draping splendor. It was simple and beautiful and for a moment she was all alone. The man to her left had ceased to exist and the look on her face was one of pure delight.

She jumped as hands wound their way around her from behind, grasping lightly at her hips. His breath was warm and sensual on her neck, his lips hovering so close to her ear.

"So beautiful", he whispers into her ear, "So perfectly beautiful." Chills run up her spine and her neck breaks out in goose flesh, the tiny hairs standing erect. Her knees feel weak and she is disoriented. How did I get here? Where is everyone?

His hands turn her and again she is staring into those eyes of his. Drowning in them. Hadn't she told herself they were dangerous eyes?

His hand cups the back of her head and suddenly she knows his lips are as soft as she imagined. Her mouth opens, she meant to utter a protest. But instead the kiss deepens, her tongue betraying her as it responded on its own.

Questing and probing, she wasn't quite sure when she stopped being kissed and started kissing back. All she knew for sure is that the world had shrunk until it's entirety fit within this one cave. Within this one kiss. Alive with passion and need. Her hands are now exploring the man kissing her, snaking their way under his shirt to caress his back as she pressed against the full length of his body.

His need dug painfully into her hip and she felt the urge to claw his pants open to get that solid, throbbing presence in her hand. Her breath panted out of her and her heart beat wildly in her chest.

Suddenly the kiss broke. He pushed her back enough to look into her eyes. "I want you. I want to ravish your body. I want to be inside you." She nearly swoons at this. She doesn't even know his name!

"Come to my room. Let me have you. Just an afternoon. Let me taste all of you." His hands wouldn't stop their incessant caressing, running up and down the length of her body as he spoke. The simmer inside her was a raging fire of need.

Would Bob mind? Should she call him? Would it break the spell she was under with this man? Wouldn't it be ok if she took pictures for him? Isn't this what he had fantasized about?

"I...I...I don't think I can do that." I can't do this, can I? If I did, I would constantly be looking over my shoulder for the morality vice squad to show up and paint a scarlet letter on my forehead. Label be a whore. What sort of woman would I be? (The sort that fulfills her husband's fantasies, a little voice whispered in her mind. The sort that fulfills her OWN fantasies)

He takes her hand in his and lowers it until she is grasping him through his pants, his cock hard and pulsing in her palm. Her pussy clenches, hungry and achy. Her need is a physical presence and he can see it reflected in her eyes.

"Your mouth says no, but your eyes say yes." His other hand reaches up and cups her cheek, his touch light and tender. Loving and soft and sensual. Perfect. Exactly the type of touch that makes her melt. "Stop thinking. It's ok. Trust me."

A switch flips inside her. Why is she resisting this? Why struggle against it? Bob WANTS this. And the way her belly twisted and her heart raced, she couldn't deny wanting it herself.

"Yes", her voice is barely a whisper, "Yes, take me. I...I want it." Her cheeks flared, her embarrassment to say something like this aloud. Her shame that what she was saying was true.

Instead of judging her, he leaned forward and kisses her again. Not a deep, tongue dueling kiss. Instead it was a light and slow brushing of lips on lips. Hovering close, sharing the intense energy of the moment in a wildly intimate way. The kiss of a lover. Not the kiss of a rutting teenager willing to fuck anything that spreads its legs. There was a tenderness and promise of throbbing ecstasy in the gentle kiss, his hand still cupping her face.

And then it was over, their eyes staring into each other's soul. Without another word he takes her hand and leads her out of the cave. His arm around her waist like they were a couple. She was in a daze and suddenly they were at his suite, the door opening and her inhibitions started melting away. Her animalistic, lustfilled self taking control. Thinking was over. She was keenly aware of what she was feeling in this moment. Now the time to act was upon her.

And she was determined to surprise this man with just what it was like when THIS woman decides to act.

The door closes and he flips the privacy latch. As he turns back to her she pushes him against the door, her hand on his chest and she kisses him hard on the mouth. Her tongue slips between his lips and her hands pull roughly at the buttons of his shirt.

He struggles to help her with the shirt before she pops the buttons off in her rush to have his naked skin against her.

He shrugs out of the shirt and she digs her nails down his lightly muscles chest, leaving lines trailing down his pec. She is still kissing and lightly biting at his bottom lip as her nails move lower and lower until her hands are tugging at his belt, wanting to get her hands on that hardened flesh she could still feel pressed against her.

She felt fumbling and uncoordinated but somehow she got his pants unbutton and open enough to snake her hand inside and grasp his hot flesh. A hiss escapes him as she tugs on him, sliding that sheath of skin up and down the hard iron beneath it.

In an instant he grabs her by the shoulders and pushes her towards the bed until the back of her knees hit the mattress and she is forced to sit. He lets his pants fall to his ankles and his stuff cock points towards her face, bobbing excitedly and impatient to be inside her.

She leans forward and takes him into her mouth, still stroking him and twisting as her head moves back and forth taking as much of his shaft in her mouth as she can. Her tongue works along the bottom of his cock, teasing and twirling as she works him slow and deep. His hips thrust involuntarily, forcing more of his manhood into the warm wetness of her mouth. He is groaning low on his throat, a nearly sub-audible growl that drives her wild and encourages her to take even more of him until she starts to feel her gag reflex threaten to ruin her good time.

His hand cups the back of her head and she realizes that he is actually fucking her mouth. His hips thrusting while he held her head still, sinking himself into her mouth like he would be doing to her pussy before long.

He pulls back, taking his cock all the way out of her mouth and asks, "Where's your phone? I want to take pictures of you sucking my cock so you never forget." Oh my! She HAD forgot that she needed pictures for Bob. Thank God this man is kinky. She would have felt horribly guilty if she had to tell Bob about this and didn't have pictures. She reached for her purse, taking out her phone and starting the camera app before handing it her new friend.

He slid forward, slipping his cock back between her warm lips. "Look up at me." She did as she was told and heard the little shutter sound of her phone taking a picture.

Oh my God! He is taking pictures of me sucking his cock! I don't even know his name. But I do know I am wet and horny and I'm enjoying sucking this big piece of male sex that is in my mouth. I know I want it between my legs stretching me and driving inside of me.

He pulls out until just the head lay on her tongue, her mouth open and inviting. Again the phone makes that little picture sound. "Look right at the camera." He pushes forward, snapping picture after picture as he sink into her mouth to the point that she gags and pushes back from him, a line of drool hanging from her chin.

He takes another picture of that. Her eyes watering and her chest heaving.

He pushes her back on the bed and starts stripping her clothes off, stopping again and again to take pictures of her. He even positioned her panties in several stages on her legs and finally at her ankles, showing the progression of her decent of inhibitions.

"Spread yourself. Show me how wet you are for my cock. Show me what a sexy little slut you can be." His words should have offended her, she should have told him to fuck off. But instead they fanned the flames inside her. She WANTED to be a slut in this moment. She wanted him to see the glistening slickness between her legs. She wanted his hard cock to ache with the need to be inside her. She wanted him to lose his control and fuck her until he jerked and throbbed inside her with his release.

Her fingers found her wet hole and spread the lips wide. The phone clicked again. And again. She dipped a finger, then two inside herself and the feeling was exquisite. She sawed her fingers in and out and then brought them to her lips, sucking the taste of herself off of her fingers. Click. Click. Click. More photos for Bob.

He set the phone down (within reaching distant she noted) and laid on the bed, positioning himself so that his mouth was right against her quivering sex. She uses her hand to spread herself, opening up her slippery hole and letting her clit poke out fiercely in its arousal.

She gasps as he slips a finger into her, pressing up into the soft, spongy flesh behind her clit. His lips kiss her gently, the tip of his tongue flicking against that little nerve bundle and her hips rock forward, wanting more.

Immediately her orgasm starts to build, her body desperate for relief as the tidal force of pleasure strains within her. His mouth and tongue are relentless in their exploration of her most private of places, his finger probing and pressing right on the ache she has almost constantly now.

She jumps, a little startled as he places her phone on her tummy, the cool lines of the phone at odds with the heated flesh beneath.

He raises his head slightly, adding a second finger to the first, causing her back to arch.

"Take pictures. Get pictures of me eating this beautiful and wet pussy." He drops his mouth back down onto her, his devilish tongue making her fumble at the phone, her coordination evaporating. Finally she gets the phone unlocked again and the camera app running. She moans and thrashes as he drives her closer to her bliss but manages to take several pictures of his mouth pressed hard between her legs.

The wet, slurping and smacking noises coming from below her belly button were incredibly erotic and she felt her release begin to climb, in moments it would be beyond the point of no return and she groaned loudly, grinding her pussy against the mouth that was driving her wild.

She could feel it start, low and deep in her belly and as if he could feel it with her he stopped JUST before it could riot through her body.

His mouth stopped and his fingers pressed upward into her G spot and just stayed there, not moving. She mewled with frustrated need as her orgasm started to slip away, her body tense and shaking, trying to encourage it not to leave.

She exhaled with a sound that was almost a cry. A whimper of disappointment.

Just as her body started to relax from that cliff, he lowered his mouth and SUCKED her clit hard. His fingers a riot of motion and her orgasm THUNDERED back to the brink, harder and bigger than she would have imagined possible. This time he didn't stop, he didn't tease. This time he didn't push her over the edge. He THREW her off the cliff!

Waves of pleasure ripped through her, seeming to start at her toes and send lightning bolts up her spine. She could feel her pussy clenching and throbbing around his fingers and her heels pounded against the mattress.

Again and again her body convulsed and she batted at his hand, trying to get him to stop. Arching up and away, trying to escape the sheer intensity of her climax.

But he wouldn't stop. Even with her clawing at his hand he continues to pump his fingers into her slippery depths until she was crying out and shaking so hard that he thought she might actually hurt herself.

And he was only beginning.

Her orgasm ebbs and she returns to her body, the aftershocks still coursing through her in tingling waves of pleasure. She stretches, her entire body rippling with languid fluidity.

He takes the phone from her, his face still glistening with her juices, and says "Smile darling" and takes a couple pictures of her aglow with satisfaction.

"I want this!", she exclaims as she grabs ahold of his stiff prick. A sudden stab of panic floods her, she doesn't have any condoms! Why would she? She is here with Bob. It's just a little vacation while he was at conference. What is she going to do?

He leans over her, the hardened flesh hovering so close to her open sex that she can feel the heat of it. For a moment she is convinced he is going to take her, take her bare. The thought is incredibly exciting and kinky, but her panic rises. This CANNOT happen. She won't allow it. No matter how tempting it might be to allow herself to be filled with his cock, skin to skin, to feel him cum inside her pussy and flood her, it would never, ever be worth the risk.

She opened her mouth to stop him but he continued to reach past her and slipped open the nightstand drawer, pulling out a small three pack of condoms, opening the box.

Her relief floods through her. Her panicked heart beating in her chest so hard and fast she thought she may faint. She was silently grateful to this man for not trying to take her unsafely. For being prepared. Respectful. She felt her panic slowly fade, her lust start to seep back into every fiber of her being.

He ripped the little fool packet and slipped the condom over his shaft, positioning himself at her wet, waiting threshold.

He pressed the tip of his cock against the velvety lips and watched as the parted so willingly, wanting to be pierced. He picked aimed the phone again and took a picture, just the very tip of his cock inside her.

He took a series of pictures as he sank the length of his manhood into her hungry body. Her eyes were screwed closed, her mind focussed on the sensation of slowly being stretched open around this strangers cock. She was aware of him taking more pictures but it was far away. Insignificant. She knew Bob would love them but had he taken not a single pic she would still have wanted him to fuck her.

She couldn't, at this moment, contemplate NOT fucking him.

Finally he tossed the stupid phone to the side and grabbed her by the hips, working in and out of her as he pulled her body up, helping her meet him thrust for thrust.

His cock felt incredibly filling inside of her, stretching and pressing against all the right places. She could feel another orgasm starting to build. She had always been multiorgasmic but since Bob and her have started playing with other people she can't stop cumming.

She thrust her hip upwards, trying to clench with her kegel muscles, squeezing his cock and milking it with her little pussy, jacking him off with her soft wet fold of muscles. He reaches down and takes one of her nipples in his fingertips and squeezes, slowly applying more and more pressure until she cries out.

He can see in her eyes how much she likes it. How much that razor's edge between pleasure and pain turns her on. He takes her other nipple between his teeth and bites the hardened flesh until she cries out. He release it and sits up a bit, gently caressing her face, his fingers trailing fire in their wake as they stroke down the side of her neck.

He leans in close and kisses her full on the mouth, their tongues again dancing and entwining like serpents. She is lost in this moment, a complete stranger thrusting inside her while she kissed with a passion normally reserved for only her husband.

Her body, her husband's property in many ways, spread underneath the weight of this sexy man. Her wet pussy filled with cock that didn't belong to her. Her heart pounding, her lust a living thing inside of her. For a moment guilt assaulted her, what was she doing?!? What sort of slut has she become?

Then his tempo increased and all thought flew from her mind as another orgasm crushed her ability for rationale. She was nothing but sensation. Ancient and primal. The driving force of nature. The perfect culmination of countless centuries of evolution. Orgasm. The key to existence, to the perpetuation of the entirety of life. For the moments as her climax owned her mind and soul she felt connected to everything. Every living organism from the dawn of time and stretching out into the future all shared the same space, the same energy as she did.

It was eternal, this moment of climatic release. It was beautiful and spiritual and primal all at once. And as it flowed through her all doubt and guilt and worry went with it. This couldn't be wrong. Couldn't be bad. Not with the man she was married to. That beautiful and kinky husband of hers that loved her so much that it threatened to rip her heart in two.

She came back to her senses and looked up to see this man smiling down at her, those dangerous eyes gleaming with pleasure at seeing her cum again. He looked so very happy and proud of himself. Perhaps it was time to show him what she was capable of!

She pushed him off of her and turned so that he would lay down on the bed. She straddled his hips, careful not to agitate her old injury as she took him back inside her.

She sat upright, her hands in her hair and her back arched, putting her body on display as she rode up and down on his cock. Her eyes closed, she bit her bottom lip and moaned through her teeth as she slid her hands down to cup her own breasts, pinching and tugging at her erect nipples.

Her hips writhed rhythmically as she twisted and ground herself on his stiffened cock. She could feel her pussy leaking down, coating his member with her slick taste and it made her want to fuck him harder.

She could feel him rocking beneath her, trying to match her rhythm and drive himself deeper into her. She could feel the bulbous head pressing against her cervix as he thrust from below, driving himself deep.

Her hands drifted down over her tummy and came to rest at her clit, one hand spreading herself while a single finger rubbed slowly at her little button, sending shockwaves of delight through her and igniting her need once again.

How greedy I've become, she thinks. How many times do I need to cum? What is this hunger that lives inside me and why is it never satiated? He thrust again, burying himself deep enough to be painful and she forgot herself again, unable to analyze. Instead she fell forward, her mouth on his again and started fucking him hard from above, her body bucking and driving her wet sleeve over the length of him until she felt that swelling start to build again.

Her body tensed and she moved slower as her muscles clenched up once again. He could feel her orgasm beginning and took over thrusting, pounding up into her with long, deep strokes and she shuttered and moaned on top of him, her body jerking and tense with sensation.

She returned quickly this time. Only a small orgasm but she was pleased. Although she had meant for HIM to cum, she was certainly not complaining that his beautiful cock had worked its magic inside her again.

She sat back up, his cock still inside her and again grabbed her phone, starting the camera. This time she set it to video and handed it to him. With lazy rolls of her hips, she was grinding herself on his cock as he filmed her.

She closed her eyes and tried to forget about the camera, her hand roaming over her own body before settling on his chest. She used her arms for leverage as she started riding him harder, lifting herself off of him before plunging back down on his stiffened muscle over and over.

She was grunting with effort and moaning with pleasure as she worked her body, feeling her skin slick with perspiration.

Suddenly he grabbed her hips and flipped her over. She loved the feeling of being manhandled like this. It made her feel small and petite. She loved a strong man that could toss her around a bit. Loved the feeling of being positioned. Overpowered. Taken.

He didn't stop there though, he grabbed her leg and spun her face down on the bed.


His hand left a warm and tingling sensation glowing on her ass cheek and the noise sounded like a thunderclap in the room.

"Get up. Put your ass in the air so I can fuck you." His voice was a little hard. A little demanding. It made her moan with anticipation as she raised up on her hands and knees, spreading wide and presenting him with a view of her well used and dripping hole. She wanted him back inside her and didn't have to wait long.

She could feel the rounded head of his cock probe at her opening and as soon as he felt that entrance he plunged forward, his pelvis slapping hard against her soft, round ass.

SMACK! Now the left cheek tingled as much as the right and she could feel the warm burn of his palm, each finger of that hand on her ass as if his hand still rested there. She knew that her cheeks would be pink with the outline of his hand and she could hear the phone making that little shutter sound as he took pictures of her ass, his cock buried deep inside her as he did.

He flipped the camera back to video and started fucking her hard, watching the ripple of impact on her ass each time he thrusted, listening to her cry out as he pumped himself into her with force. He couldn't see but knew that her tits were swinging violently with each stroke and could feel her velvet folds starting to clench again.

"You like that", he panted as he kept up with this hard fucking from behind, "You like getting fucked hard like a little slut? You like my cock inside you? Getting your wet little pussy fucked while your husband works? Tell me you like it! Tell me you like being a little slut!"

His words struck her like blows. Each syllable stoking the fire inside her, making her moan and cry out, making her want to be fucked even harder.

"Tell me! Tell me you love it!" SMACK. SMACK. SMACK. His hand came down in quick succession, spanking her naughty little slutty ass as his cock filled her and her body trembled.


Her mind went white hot and her body convulsed around him. Her arms gave out and she felt her face hit the pillow, his hands still on her hips and her ass still up in the air as he hammered into her. Her orgasm was huge and wracked her body, consuming her. She could feel herself shaking uncontrollably and wondered if she might not be having a seizure.

She was dimly aware of him groaning out and slamming into her once, twice, and on the third time holding himself as deep as he could while his cock lurched and pulsed inside her, dumping his seed into the condom while surrounded by her warm, wet depths.

Slowly he withdrew himself, shaking with his own afterglow and spasming weakly, his cock making little hiccuping jumps, the condom milky white at the tip.

He set the phone aside and pulled off the rubber, slipping silently out to the bathroom to dispose of it. When he came back, he was wiping himself dry with a towel and held a clean and folded towel out for her to use.

She toweled herself off, a bit disappointed to see that he was dressing. She glanced at the bedside clock and was amazed at the time. Wondering if Bob was back and looking for her yet.

He dressed quickly and efficiently, but his eyes were still on her nakedness, drinking her in like he couldn't get enough.

He approached the bed and kissed her lightly on the lips.

"I have to go", he said, looking a bit sad. "But this was incredible."

"What do you mean? It's YOUR room."

He smiled a mischievous little devil's smile. "No, no it's not Lisa." How did he know her NAME? She hadn't told him. He hadn't asked!

"Tell Bob I said thank you. I can't believe that I was lucky enough to be the guy he picked for this. You have one hell of a husband!"

He kissed her stunned mouth one last time, tossed his room key on the night stand and walked out the door.